A Spark Is Never Enough
by The Dragon of Winterfell
Summary: What if Peeta and Katniss hadn't survived the 74th Hunger Games? What if Katniss had failed to protect him and had sacrificed herself to spark the rebellion? This is the tale of Prim, a valiant young girl who must lead a rebellion in her sister's shadow. Rated T because it's THG.


A Spark is Never Enough

Prologue

We face each other, our weapons lying at our feet. Peeta's eyes never leave my face, and I know what he wants me to do. He wants me to win the Hunger Games. He wants me to win the Games…and end his life.

But how could I kill him? How could I kill the boy who has come to mean so much to me? The boy who has lied for me, protected me, sacrificed his own safety for me? How could I kill the boy with the bread?

But he would never kill me that much I knew. He may have feigned his romantic interest in me for the sake of getting us home, but even if he despised me he couldn't kill me. He could never kill anyone.

That was why I would have to do it myself.

My fingers fumble with the pouch on my belt, freeing it. I loosen the top of the pouch and pour a few spoonfuls of Nightlock berries into my palm.

Peeta immediately knocks them out of my hand.

"No," he says fiercely. "No, you're going home, Katniss. You have to be with your family."

But I couldn't. If I let him die here, I would never forgive myself.

I was about to attempt reasoning with him when I heard it; a growl, low and menacing.

I turned towards the Cornucopia just in time to see it. Another wolf, emerging from inside the Cornucopia where Cato had been brutally killed. It was not long before it began to run towards us.

I readied my bow to shoot at it, but I was too slow. Within seconds, the huge beast had landed on Peeta and dug its vicious teeth into his leg. I shot my last arrow at it but my shaking hands meant that it missed by a long shot.

The wolf's head suddenly flew up; its mouth holding a raw hunk of meat that I knew must have come from Peeta's leg.

I felt terribly sick. I had never been good with sick or wounded people, and the wolf was holding a part of his _leg_…

But this was Peeta. And I would have to be brave.

I retrieved my last arrow from the ground where it had landed and, without looking at Peeta, which I knew would make my stomach lurch, I notched my last arrow and pointed it at the wolf.

It was as if the wolf had read my thoughts, as it dropped the chunk of Peeta's flesh and turned to face me.

It was only then that I realised that this wasn't one of the wolves I had seen before at the Cornucopia.

It had shaggy dark brown hair and grey Seam eyes…and its collar bore the number _12_.

The wolf was me. It was _my_ wolf.

I felt light-headed and sickened, but without hesitation I loosed the arrow.

I hit the beast in its temple and it fell to the ground. With a few whimpers, it died.

I lowered my bow and looked at Peeta. He was lying sprawled across the ground, and his eyes were closed. When I saw his leg I gagged. It was a bloody, fleshy mess. Most of his upper left thigh had been savaged, and his blood pooled around him.

I ran to him, and knelt down beside him. I gently pulled his body into my arms.

There was nothing I could do for him. Nothing. I held his body, trying to think of some way to comfort him. It was then that his eyelids fluttered open. He stared at me and I knew that he was trying to say something…but he was too weak. Tears streamed down my cheeks. There was no point in telling him that he would be alright, that we would make it. His blood was surrounding them, and there was no way he could possibly live.

And it was _my _fault. It was _my_ wolf that had delivered the blow that would soon kill him. And even if it hadn't been, it was still my fault. I hadn't been quick enough to stop it.

"No, Peeta, no…" I mumbled, cradling his weak body in my arms.

He mouthed my name. I leaned in close and heard him say hoarsely, "I love you, Katniss."

My tears fell from my face and onto his. I knew that he hadn't said that for the Games because he wouldn't do that...especially not now.

"I love you too, Peeta," I said softly.

But he was already gone.

"Peeta? Peeta?" I said desperately, shaking him. His eyes were still open, but his heart had stopped.

"No!" I screamed. "No, no, no!"

I hugged his dead body to mine and cried. And cried. And cried.

I cried for my father. I cried for Rue. I cried for Peeta. I cried for all the suppressed tears and all those I had lost.

Finally, when no more tears would come, I gently laid Peeta's body down and closed his eyes. I took off my jacket to cover him, as if his bare dead arms could feel the cold.

I could not leave him. I _would_ not leave him.

As if in response to my thoughts, Claudius Templesmith's voice boomed into the arena, "Ladies and gentlemen, give it up for the winner of the 74th Hunger Games, Katniss Everdeen from District Twelve!"

Screams and cheers poured into the arena. I stood motionless over Peeta's body, not responding to any of it.

How could I leave this place, put on a dress, smile and pretend to be happy? With Peeta dead, I would never be happy again.

They've done it; the Capitol has broken me. By giving me one thing that I never thought that I would have in the arena; hope. And then they smashed it into thousands of broken pieces.

Hatred burned inside me. I didn't want to do it anymore. I didn't want to go along with their plans, to play their Games.

Not after all they'd done.

In that moment, Peeta's voice came to me.

_I keep wishing I could think of way to…to show the Capitol they don't own me. That I'm more than just a piece in their Games._

And that was when I realised that I had to be the one to do it. To show Panem that we can't stand for it anymore; the Games, the poverty, the oppression. I would have to show them that the Capitol doesn't own me…or anyone.

I would do it for Peeta. For Peeta and Panem. And for myself. Because I honestly couldn't live without him.

With the cheers still playing in the arena, I ran to my backpack by the lake. I rooted around in it until I found it; the dagger. I lifted it out carefully and gripped it in my hand.

I thought of my family.

My mother, who deep down I knew I loved. She had brought me into the world and raised me. She had left me briefly, but I now knew how it felt to lose the one you loved and I now understood her absence.

Peeta, who had saved my life so many times. Who had protected me, aided me, and done everything that I had asked of him. And who, I knew, had really loved me.

Gale, who had always been there for me. He had helped me provide for my family, had listened to me, he had consoled me if I was ever upset. He had been the best friend that anyone could ever hope for.

And Prim. My little duck. She was so compassionate, so bright. I knew that she would grow into a skilled healer, just like our mother. I loved Prim more than anyone else in the world and I had always tried to protect her.

Doubt crept into my mind.

How could I leave Prim all alone? How could I abandon her?

But then I thought of the Games. I thought of Rue. Perfect, innocent Rue who had done no wrong; and yet had been brutally murdered. I thought of Thresh, who had spared my life. Who, though I had never truly known him, felt like a friend to me. I thought of Foxface, who was so intelligent and could have done so much had the Games not taken her life. I thought of all the boys and girls, all the _children_, who had been forced to fight to the death. I thought of all the families that had to see their loved ones die.

And then I thought of Peeta. And I knew that I had to do it.

I stole one last look at Peeta and whispered, "I'm sorry," to his lifeless form.

Just as the hovercraft landed, I said ruefully to President Snow, who probably would never even know that I had said it, "You don't own me."

Then Katniss Everdeen plunged the dagger into her heart.

And as Snow watched, he knew. This wasn't a simple rebellious spark. Katniss Everdeen, The Girl on Fire, had set a raging fire that would devour the Capitol itself.


End file.
